


The Lament of Bells and Bees

by crscntrose



Category: RWBY
Genre: 3 year timeskip, Angst, F/F, Fake Marriage, Ruby and Weiss are presumed dead, Yangs really really depressed, gay shit, the gays go to menagerie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 15:24:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17409395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crscntrose/pseuds/crscntrose
Summary: Yang hasn’t seen her team in three years. Ruby and Weiss died in their pursuit of Haven, and Blake hasn’t sent a single letter, let alone come to visit. That is, until the day she shows up before Yang in Patch with the proposition of a fake marriage between the two of them. Thus, Yang is left to ponder, and perhaps self-reflect, on how three years can change a person so much.





	The Lament of Bells and Bees

3 years and counting. To say it’d been a while since Yang had last seen her team would be an understatement. As days passed and the mornings grew duller, nights colder and the purpose of life itself was obscured, Yang lost herself in a time that felt still, and she would’ve thought it was frozen if not for the diary entries that reminded her she was alive. Yet even then, her handwriting was insipid, dull and dreary as it decayed like a lonely garden, fit to her feelings in such tired times. She, too, was as lonely as she could be.

She cursed herself for such a pathetic display, a bedridden girl that could only muster the strength to stare out the window thoughtlessly. The sunflowers on her nightstand were dead, because she’d never bothered to care for them. At what point in time, Yang wondered, was she stripped of all her energy? Was it when her father came into her room, teary-eyed, clutching a bouquet of roses? Or, perhaps, when Weiss sent her that one last letter stained with tears and dried blood? Was it the very first day she woke up in her bed, back in Patch as if she never attended Beacon, as if the fall of her academy never occured, as if Blake never got hurt? Was it then, that she gave up the person she was, and the person she aspired to be?

Now that she thought about it, could that part of her ever be rekindled? She doubted it. Only a miracle could light the fire that had already dwindled within her. And the saddest part was that Yang knew her teammates would look down upon her in shame, because more than anyone else, her team knew the extent of her resilience. If they could see her as she was, frail and broken, they wouldn’t be able to believe it. Yang, admittedly, couldn’t believe herself either when she reflected upon the past three years of idle silence, waterworks and the desperate thought that she’d wake up from this nightmare at some point.

Yang missed the letters. She hated receiving Weiss’ letters in particular because they were so painful to read, so painful to picture, but as the days grew quieter she found herself reading them over and over again just to try and hear the heiress’ voice in her head, because damn it she missed her so much. But even more so, she missed Ruby, and just the thought of her sister was so painstakingly impossible to bear that Yang asked her father to keep that bouquet of roses out of her sight, for as long as she would live. If it didn’t make her numb with grief, it made her sick to her stomach.

Finally, she couldn’t—and adamantly wouldn’t—think about Blake. Yang promised herself that, so as to guarantee her sanity wouldn’t die before she did. She had a feeling, knowing her partner well, that she was out there somewhere... alive. As for where she was or whatever important duty occupied her for three years, Yang spared herself the endless contemplation.

Taiyang used to encourage her to get out of bed and be active, but after Ruby’s death, her father lost his energy just as much as she had. With nobody to stop her from sulking, that was exactly what Yang sought out to do, still as strong but certainly not as motivated as the huntress she was proud to be three years ago. She felt like a corpse, lifeless in her bed as she watched the leaves fall off the trees outside her window. Yang heaved a sigh.

Suddenly, a shadow lurked behind one of the trees, and Yang felt her body stiffen despite her disinterest. It remained there for what felt like an eternity before it rushed out of her sight. Yang huffed to herself, adjusting to a more comfortable lounging position as she stared at that tree for a while longer. It wasn’t until she saw a black silhouette where the shadow had been that her curiosity piqued—it was disintegrating, crumbling with the wind.

Yang’s body moved before she could even digest what it was she’d seen. Long before she could comprehend it, Yang was already outside her house, donned in the laziest attire of a black tank top and shorts. She proved to be out of shape from her heavy breaths but of course that grasped very little of her focus. She could only stare blankly at the tree beyond her. The silhouette had already vanished. Nevertheless, her body lead her into the forest, and Yang pressed on for the first time in years.

“Damn it,” she said under her breath, cold and vulnerable in the autumn breeze. It was undeniably stupid of her to not wear a coat of sorts in this weather. But regardless, somehow Yang didn’t care to give up just yet. She kept walking, and the further she was drawn by her curiosity, the more stubborn she would get. “I know you’re out there,” she called to nothing and nobody in particular, voice trembling against frigid air.

“Yang.”

Everything was still. Yang couldn’t bring herself to look around for the source of the voice—whether that was because of the cold or because she was in utter disbelief, she considered it a blend of both worlds. A familiar figure made itself known, kneeling on one of the tree branches above her, a fair distance away. A girl with raven hair.

Yang gaped at her, waiting with bated breath for anything—a ‘hello’ or an apology, even for her to smile. But Blake was idle and aloof, just as Yang remembered her to be. She was so overwhelmed with dismay that the anger boiling within her was nearly disregarded, but eventually it exploded and she found herself screaming impulsively. “Where the fuck have you been? Did... did you know I was here? The—The whole time? Why hadn’t you... I mean, why did you never...” 

“Hear me out,” Blake only said, so emotionally distant that it was torture to Yang’s ears. “Please.”

It took all of her strength—as frail as it was—to gather her composure, but Yang managed. She watched as the other girl dropped to the ground gracefully, keeping eye contact the entire time as if there was not a thing in the world easier for her to do. 

“It’s been a while. I’m sorry I haven’t visited,” Blake said. “I’ve been in Menagerie these past few years, establishing a new activist group. It’s been incredibly busy. My people look up to me for guidance, and so I’ve had an important duty to fulfill, a responsibility—“

“Do you even know what’s happened over the years?” Yang asked, her voice croaking as she barely suppressed tears. “Anything?”

Blake was quiet for the longest heartbeat, and Yang knew her partner was clueless from how she looked down at where her right arm used to be. “I know. I shouldn’t have left you. I know it’s been hard, but you need to understand—”

“You’re pathetic,” Yang said, albeit partially to herself. She was jealous of Blake, yearned for her blissful ignorance. The loss of her teammates crippled her even more so than her disability, and to think Blake went on about her life and her important duties for the worst three years of Yang’s life... oh, how she envied her. But simultaneously, in that moment, rage conquered her ability to think and to understand. Her eyes glowed a vibrant, furious red, for the first time in what felt like too long. 

Yang growled, “Clearly you only think about yourself, Blake, because if you ever thought to visit—or, hell, even send letters,” her voice cracked at the thought, “you would’ve realized just as I did that our teammates are gone, and they’re never going to come back.”

Blake was stunned to silence. There was a hint of disbelief upon her visage, as if Yang was lying to her, but that look of incredulity softened when her partner saw the tears streaming down her face. Blake took a step forward, and Yang took a step back in response.

“You...” Blake began, but it seemed she couldn’t form the right words. “You can’t be serious... they... Ruby and Weiss are strong, they surely wouldn’t...”

“Look at me, Blake.”

She did.

“They’re dead,” Yang said, barely able to make out the other girl’s face through her tears.

Blake shook her head, fists clenched with eyes cast to the ground. “I don’t believe you.”

“Well, you know what I can’t believe?” The blonde girl’s voice rose to a shout, wavering amidst her heavy emotions. “I can’t believe you only think about yourself. I bet you never sent one letter to them! I bet you never even thought about them!”

“Of course I thought about them!” Blake cried, eyes watering. “Oh my god, Yang, I thought about them everyday but I have a role to fulfill! I have my father’s legacy to uphold! I’m the chieftain of Menagerie, do you know how hard it is to make time for myself, let alone my friends? Do you have any idea how lonely it is as a big fish in a small pond?”

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to be the only fish in a pond?” Yang countered, hair engulfed in flames. “I had to cope with the loss of Ruby and Weiss for three years while you lived in ignorance! You have no fucking idea how lonely its been for me! You could’ve visited!” 

There was a few long moments of silence before Blake sobbed to stir the quietude. She put her face into her hands and cried into them hysterically, and suddenly Yang’s heartstrings were tugged in the other girl’s direction. She walked towards her—but she stopped herself in a fit of pique. They were inches away from one another, unable to close the distance. Yang hated how weak she was, but most of all, she hated how weak she was around Blake. She took Blake’s hand in her own but kept her eyes averted.

“Why are you here?” Yang asked in a cold undertone, staring elsewhere with a tired gaze. 

Blake sniffed, blinking the tears away profusely. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Yang inhaled sharply, then braced herself to look at Blake. They met eyes for what could’ve been forever. Yang felt her grip on Blake’s hand tighten—as for what reason, she wasn’t sure—and stared at Blake’s lips, watching as they parted, waiting for her to say something... anything. Her hair tangled in the breeze.

“Can we talk inside?” Blake asked timidly.

Yang lead her into the house, pulling her by the hand. Taiyang wasn’t home, much to her relief. She brought Blake to the couch and sat her down, but was hesitant to sit beside her, so instead she stood with her arms bitterly crossed. She studied Blake’s curious expression as it morphed with every little thing she noticed about Yang’s abode. Her ears were perked in an alert fashion, twitching whenever her puzzlement itched at her very being.

Blake noticed the bookshelf in particular, but said nothing. Yang assumed it was her love of books that drew her to the bookshelf but when she turned around to face Yang again, ears flattened against her head, the blonde noticed tears building up in yellow eyes. It was then that she knew why the books caught her attention—Blake and Ruby would often read and share books together. Yang grit her teeth to fight her own waterworks. 

“Aren’t... you going to sit?” Blake asked.

“I’m fine.”

Blake awkwardly fidgeted. “Um... I came to ask you a favor.”

Figures. “Out with it,” Yang said, sadness veiled by a cruel and impatient tone.

“Well... as you know, I’m trying to make peace between the faunus and the humans, but after the colossal damage left behind by the White Fang’s endeavors, my task is getting... increasingly difficult. The people of Menagerie doubt if peace is worth it when humans are known for betrayal and abuse of authority.” Blake twiddled her thumbs as she spoke. Yang raised an eyebrow but was ultimately disinterested, just as she was with most things regardless of how they impacted her. 

“Sun actually came to me a few weeks ago with a... unique... proposition. If I, the chieftain of Menagerie and role model for my people, publicly marry a human... that might be what we need to persuade the faunus. Love, rather than spite.” 

The room went silent.

Yang stammered, surprised by her own lack of self-control, “W-What are you saying?” 

“I want you to marry me, Yang.”

Time slowed in that moment, and Yang’s eyes widened as she froze.

“What?”

“I mean,” Blake reiterated, “I need you to pretend to marry me.“

Yang’s eyes scanned Blake up and down for any sign of sarcasm, a smile barely stifled or a sly laugh, even a simple “I’m kidding” would do just fine—but no, Blake had never appeared more serious than now, sitting before her, asking for Yang’s hand in a fake marriage. Her jaw dropped. 

“I can’t believe you,” Yang said, overwhelmed by all the racing thoughts jumbled in her mind. She was about to explode, face hot with an abundance of negative emotions. “You came here for your own benefit? Is that it?”

“No! I told you, I’m trying to bring peace to Menagerie. This isn’t about me, I swear!” Blake was quick to defend herself. Yang rolled her eyes nonetheless.

“Yang, please, I’m begging you,” her voice was suddenly so tender, so gentle that it sent shivers down Yang’s spine. “You’re the only one I can trust to do this. If... if this works, the humans and faunus could finally unite as one, and that’s what I’ve been working towards all these years.”

Another pause. It was deafeningly silent, enough to where even a breeze—the only sound to accompany the quietude—seemed thunderous to Yang’s ears.

“I needed you here, Blake,” Yang’s voice wavered with her strength. She clenched her fists, so incapable of keeping balance that she had to sit down on the other side of the sofa, maintaining an uncomfortable distance between the two of them. She sighed, hands shaking as her head rested in her palms.

Yang cried, “I needed you here for me so badly... I almost didn’t make it through the summer. But I knew you were out there so I couldn’t give up, despite myself. And yet here you are, sitting in my house, so close and so far at the same time, and all I want is for you to leave. To leave and to never, ever come back.”

“Yang...” Blake practically begged. “I’m sorry. If it were my choice I would’ve stayed with you all these years... but I left to protect you. Please know that I never wanted to leave you or hurt you like I did. But...” 

Yang felt Blake’s eyes studying the space where her arm once was. Her gaze on that emptiness was painful, too much for her to bear, and she wanted to tell her to stop staring—to leave—but something within her couldn’t bear that either. She stayed still with long, unsteady breaths. 

“But... I couldn’t let him hurt you again,” Blake said, and even though Yang hadn’t been looking, she could hear her crying. Yang closed her eyes shut to view a void but could only see the spitting image of a girl on the ground, dripping of blood and tears, begging her to stay away as a man with a mask loomed over her. Unable to bear the reminder, Yang opened her eyes to look at Blake, but the reality wasn’t any easier to behold. The faunus was in tears, gasping for air as she lost it amidst her sobbing, cat ears flat and black bangs obscuring half of her face. Yang grit her teeth.

Blake tried to compose herself and continued, albeit with strenuous effort. “It hasn’t sunk in yet, what you’ve told me... and I know what I’ve said up until now is hard to understand. But... maybe we can help each other understand. Together. We can be partners again...”

Yang wanted to tell her “no” with confidence but she couldn’t, of course, because the opportunity would bring Blake to her side again—and the very idea of that was enough to keep her going all these years, even as her teammates left her behind, even as her father decayed with his grief. It was not Blake but the memory of her that ignited the smallest flame within Yang’s soul. Thus she was conflicted, to say the least, as Blake herself sat before her. That look in her eyes said so much and so little and it killed her the longer she stared. Yang wanted to close the distance, but as she longed to do so, she realized just how weak she was for this girl—for her partner. 

The logical side of her fought that weakness. “You’re asking a lot of me, Blake. I just...”

“I know,” Blake silenced her. “But... I need your help, and I think you need mine.”

Yang flinched. She didn’t want to hear those words, even though they only proved her assumptions to be true. Blake thought she was pathetic, in need of help. Blake pitied her and it was so obvious that it stung like no other pain, striking her numb and defeated mind. She could barely hold herself together. “Did you say that, just now, because you knew it would hit me where it hurts?”

Blake‘s eyes widened. “No! Of course not. I was trying to say I... I need you. I really need you, and, I just thought, um... with what happened to the others, I figured—“

“Stop. I get it.”

The other girl was rendered momentarily speechless. She awkwardly averted her gaze with the saddest frown upon bewitching features. Her voice was of such sorrow, “If you want me to leave, I’ll... I’ll leave.” 

Yang heard her say that and froze. She was overcome with some sort of urgency, as if she couldn’t risk losing Blake, not even for a heartbeat. “No. I’ll do it.”

“What?”

She looked at the other girl dead in the eyes. “I’ll help you.”

Yang despised herself for agreeing to such a surreal proposal, and she especially hated the sensation in her stomach as Blake smiled at her with the utmost gratitude. In that moment, Yang was unsure if it was hate or if it was love but something pulled the two of them together. That day, she found not her strength but her dying motivation rekindled, an ambition not necessarily to reunite the humans and faunus, but to reunite her and the only teammate—the only friend—she had left in this world. The two surviving remnants of RWBY were at last together and that was all that mattered to her. She would cling to this newfound motivation, because that was how desperate Yang had become.


End file.
